Psych You Out In The End
by shiningstarrynight
Summary: This is Psych fanfic my friend Lauren and I wrote.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Psych.

If you asked Shawn Spencer to tell you his favorite thing in the whole world, he would probably say sex, and describe explicitly what kind of sex he enjoyed. Then, after laughing at the scandalized look you would undoubtedly have on your face, he would say it was a close call between two things. One is other people's cooking. Much as he disliked things such as having dinner with his father, he did enjoy having something that wasn't toaster strudel but still required little effort on his part.

The other thing that Shawn Spencer would tell you he liked more than anything else is his motorcycle. Nobody else liked it, but it's Shawn's baby. Gus won't go near the thing, and Henry despises it so much that he even bought Shawn a car once, in the hopes that his son would abandon that "two wheeled death machine." Shawn thanked his dad but told him that, no matter how cool (and safe) the big old black Chevy was, it couldn't compare to his bike.

The day on which our story begins, the bike wasn't looking too well. Busy with his detective… erm… _psychic_ work, Shawn had been neglecting her. His favorite girl (Shawn's words, not mine) was covered in mud and dirt, and was even beginning to rust near one of the wheels. That was why Shawn was spending his Saturday morning in a driveway with a bucket, a sponge and a hose.

Shawn hummed as he busily washed his motorcycle. He heard footsteps coming from behind. As he was expecting Gus to come over, Shawn naturally assumed it was his friend arriving and he turned around, spraying the hose full force at the approaching man.

Detective Lassiter was not amused. "Spencer," he said angrily.

"Lassie-face," Shawn replied. "How are you this lovely morning?" He handed the older man a towel. "What brings you here?"

"I've got a case that I think is right up your alley," Lassiter replied. He handed Shawn a folder which, luckily, had only gotten a little damp from the spray.

"I'm flattered, detective. What's the case?"

"As I'm sure you know there is a meeting this week of… people like you" Lassiter rolled his eyes.

"People like me?" Shawn knew exactly what Lassiter was talking about, but he wanted to hear him say it.

"People with your abilities." Shawn cocked his head and looked at him questioningly. "Psychics," Lassiter clarified.

Shawn smiled. "Oh, yes. Of course. I considered attending but I don't like to exploit my gift."

"Anyway," Lassiter continued. "Two of them have been murdered. There's very little evidence."

"How little is 'very little?'"

"None."

"And none of the psychics at the meeting could tell you anything?"

"We haven't questioned them all yet."

Shawn looked at him. "You think they're fakes, don't you?"

"Of course they're fakes. You're a fake too, but at least you have the distinction of actually having solved a few cases.

"You like me, Lassie!" Shawn said in a high-pitched voice. "You really like me!"

"I'm leaving, Spencer. When you want to be serious, come down to the station." He walked down the driveway, got in his car, and drove away. Shawn continued to clean his bike.

Then he remembered that he had been waiting for Gus when Lassiter had arrived. It wasn't like Gus to be late, and Shawn got a little worried. He picked up his cell phone and called his friend. "Gus, where are you?"

"Shawn, what do you mean 'where are you'?"

"You said you'd come over when you got home."

"And I said my flight was delayed."

"Yeah, but that was last night."

"Shawn, don't you watch the news? Every airport on the east coast is closed, at least until tomorrow. The snow's a foot deep, at least," Gus sounded exasperated.

"So you're still in New York?"

"Yes, Shawn, I'm still in New York."

"But… we've got a case?"

"Oh, in that case, I'll just hop on my magical flying pony and come right on back."

"Gus, I know you don't have a magical flying pony."

"No I don't, Shawn. I guess you'll just have to handle this one on your own."

Shawn sighed. "Bye," he said, and hung up. His bike had, by that point, dried in the sun, but Shawn ignored the streaks and got on his trusty steed to drive down to the police station.

On his way to the station, Shawn passed the convention hall and he stopped for a minute to look. People were milling around, some in everyday clothes, and some in elaborate outfits that Shawn figured they wore to look more mystical. He thought they just looked ridiculous. Shawn smiled and rode on.

When he arrived at the station, he was instructed to take a seat. Lassiter and Chief Vick were questioning a middle aged woman with curly brown hair. Shawn fidgeted for a few minutes, waiting. He grew tired of sitting. He looked for Juliet, but didn't see her. Then he looked at the clock. Four minutes had passed since he had entered the room. He looked again. Four minutes and eight seconds. He shifted in his seat.

Shawn got up and knocked on the door. Lassiter motioned for him to sit back down. Shawn had never been very patient. Or very good at following directions. He opened the door to the chief's office, where the two detectives and the woman were talking.

"Mr. Spencer," Chief Vick said. "Was there a part of 'sit on the bench until we're ready for you' that you misunderstood?"

"No ma'am," Shawn replied. "I just had the feeling that you were about to come get me anyway, so I thought I'd save you from getting up."

"Well, that's very nice of you." Chief Vick said. "Now," she continued, motioning towards the woman, whom Shawn figured to be a bit younger than his father. "I'd like you to meet Emily Marshall. She'll be your partner during this case."

"What?" asked Shawn in surprise. "My partner?"

"Ms. Marshall is a psychic as well. She has been working on police investigations for about thirty years. Detectives O'Hara and Lassiter will be viewing the conference as a crime scene, and you will be working with Emily to gather… what would you call them? Vibrations? From the area."

"But… I usually prefer to work alone."

"You work with Mr. Guster all the time."

"That's different, I"

"If you would prefer not to take this case, I'm sure Ms. Marshall can do it alone."

Shawn considered this. "No, I can work with her." He looked at his new partner, observed her. She looked nice, more like a businesswoman than a psychic. Shawn thought she was probably a fake. But then, so was he, though of course he didn't intend to make _her_ aware of this fact. Shawn pursed his lips and prepared himself for the job ahead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Psych.

"So how are you?" Shawn asked Emily with a slightly annoyed tone "I'm fine and yourself?" "I'm just dandy, thanks" "Great! Let's start our work!"

Shawn and Emily arrived at the crime scene and walked around the room, looking for clues or anything out of place. "Well, Shawn, this one won't be easy," Emily said, sounding a bit discouraged  
"It don't come easy, you know it don't come easy" Shawn sang  
"Huh?"  
"Ringo Starr song"  
"The guy from The Beatles?"  
"Yeah. The cool one"

They continued to search the room , then suddenly Emily saw something  
"Hey Shawn, look, the window - it's broken"  
"Blood on the sides too" Shawn added  
"So while we continue looking, how do you usually go about your work?" Emily asked  
"My friend and I have an office and when we get calls we both go out and search the crime scene"  
"That's cool"  
"Yeah, I guess"  
"I usually work alone" Emily told Shawn, even though he had not yet asked her about her work. At that moment, the officer came in to check on their work "You two found anything yet?" the officer asked  
"The broken window with blood on the sides" Shawn replied  
"We didn't see that one before" the officer said with an interested tone in his voice, "did you find anything else" he then asked

Shawn stared at the floor for a few seconds, then went over to the corner of the room where the carpet would be nailed in "A few nails are missing" Shawn said, Emily and the officer walked over to where Shawn was standing and looked down. Shawn was right.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Psych

The officer pulled up the carpet. "There's nothing here," he said. "There was some construction done on the convention center a few days before this convention. The workers probably just forgot to nail it down the rest of the way." He started to put it back in place when Shawn noticed something.

"Wait," he yelled, clutching his head. "Wait! There's something! Under the floor, it's under the floor!" He rushed to the edge of the wall, where he had seen the board that wasn't quite fitted back into place, and lifted it up.

"Oh, God," Emily said. The body looked as though it had been dead for about a day. Flies were circling around its cut throat, and a few of them flew towards the psychics when they were exposed. Shawn made a retching sound.

"It's Garret Wild," the officer said.

Shawn looked at him. "How do you know?"

"He's a palm reader down by the boardwalk. My wife goes to visit him once in a while. I'm going to go call for backup and an M.E." He walked out of the room.

Shawn looked away from the body and towards Emily. "It's funny that the police didn't notice those things."

"Well," Emily replied, "With the boards still down, the smell of the body was pretty much blocked and-"

"No," Shawn interrupted. "I mean the window, mostly. It was pretty noticeable, even for people without my kind of abilities."

"Our kind of abilities," Emily corrected him.

"I still think you're a fake," Shawn said honestly.

"That's alright, I'm not sure you're legit either." Then Emily's cell phone rang. "Hold on," she said to Shawn. She walked to the side of the room. Shawn tried to listen to the conversation. "Yes… yes, ok… oh, really? I will… goodbye." Emily hung up and walked back over to Shawn. "Sorry about that. My daughter wants me to bring something home from the store."

They began to walk out of the room when Emily suddenly looked at the floor. She squinted her eyes. "I'm… I'm seeing something. It… a woman. A jealous woman. An… M? M.D? A doctor? A criminal!" she calmed down and said, "Whoa."

Shawn looked at her skeptically. "What was that?"

Emily ignored him. "We should tell the police."

Shawn rolled his eyes but pulled out his phone. He dialed the police station. "Hello?" he said. "Jules! How are ya? What? Oh, yeah, we think the killer might be a doctor."

"A doctor," Juliet repeated. "I'll look at the records. See who is at the convention, if any of them are doctors. Lassiter or I will call if we find something. Bye Shawn." She hung up, and Shawn relayed the news.

"So what do we do now?"

"Wait, I guess," Shawn said.

"Well then, I think I'm going to get some lunch. Do you want to come?"

"No thanks," Shawn replied.

"Oh, come on," Emily said.

"I'm not hungry."

Emily sighed and left. Shawn walked into the main convention hall. He spoke to a few of the people wandering around. He asked them what they knew about the case. Not much. He asked them what they knew about Emily. Even less. Shawn thought that was strange. He figured that someone who would come from wherever she came from to go to a convention probably went to a lot of them, and yet this did not seem to be the case. No one knew who she was.

Then Shawn saw a familiar face walking into the convention hall. "Lassie!" he yelled. Lassiter looked startled. Shawn jogged over to him. "I thought you were going to call when you found something out?"

"I thought you were going to call if you found something?"

"I thought you were going to lunch with Emily."

"Why would you think that? Anyway, wouldn't that make it even less useful to come here to tell us, if we were out at lunch?" Shawn asked suspiciously.

Lassiter changed the subject. "What? Oh, yeah. Anyway, there are two doctors at the convention, only one of them is a woman. We're picking her up for questioning. Where is Emily, by the way?"

"Lunch," Shawn said shortly.

"Oh."

"What are you hiding, Lassie?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You are, you're hiding something, I can feel it." Lassiter rolled his eyes at this and turned away as Emily walked in to the convention center. Lassiter told her about the woman they picked up for questioning.

"Why don't we go back to the station," Emily asked. "We can talk to her too." Shawn agreed that this would be a good idea, and the three of them left for the police station.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Psych

They arived at the police station in about ten minutes.

"Let's get this party started!!" Shawn said. Emily and Lassiter just stared at him in a "what the heck was that?"  
kind of way. "...or, y'know...not" Shawn said after noticing the stares he recieved.

"Shawn, Emily, I want you in the room asking questions, and maybe during the questioning one of you will  
get one of your psychic visions" Lassiter said to them. "Okay, that's a good idea actually" Emily replied.  
"Awesome" Shawn replied as well.

"Should we start with the woman doctor.. looks like her name is Megan Love, or the male dotor who  
has the name of Paul Thornback?" Lassiter asked.

"Well, since the vision involved a woman, let's start with her" Emily suggested.

"Megan Love it is then" Shawn replied as they all walked into the room where they would be  
questioning her. Lassiter closed the door behing them and began asking Megan what she knew  
about this case.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** We don't own Psych.

**Note**: The other author of this story, Lauren, her username on is **sparrowlove**. Her work is amazing.

Shawn examined the woman sitting in front of them. "You know your name is Dr. Love?" he asked.

"Yes, I know." The doctor replied. She was fairly young and fairly pretty and as Shawn looked at her, he realized that she was also fairly guilty. He noticed that her nails were rough and dirty and that she had a splinter in one finger. She had probably gotten it pulling up the floorboards, Shawn inferred.

"I think you killed Garrett Wild," Shawn blurted out.

"You have no proof of that," Dr. Love replied calmly.

"No, he doesn't," Emily said. Shawn glared at her. Then she pressed her hand to her forehead. "But… I bet I know how you did it. You… you argued because… Garrett lied to you? I sense a lie. You went to him and he lied and you argued.

"He didn't lie to me. We just argued But I didn't kill him."

"But you did. I still see a lie. Maybe yours that you are innocent. You slit his throat with a… a butcher knife and then buried it in a… I'm seeing a box. A coffin? No. A toolbox? No… a windowbox." The doctor's eyes widened. Shawn knew Emily must be right. He was impressed. This went beyond observation, perhaps Emily was the real deal after all. Shawn got a bit nervous. He interrupted Emily, eager to show his skills as well.

"You didn't kill those other psychics, did you? Just Garrett. But you took him to the convention hall so people would think he was killed by the person who killed the others." The doctor said nothing. Her face was stony. "This is the part," Shawn said, "Where you say you would've gotten away with it if it weren't for us meddling kids." The doctor glared at him as she was handcuffed and led to a cell.

"So," Emily said casually. "You made some pretty good observations there…"

"Yeah, I…" Shawn stopped. "No, they were predictions. I…" he put his head on the table.

"Aha!" Emily said triumphantly. "You're not a psychic, are you?"

Shawn hit his forehead against the table. "Like you're one either. I mean, that flowerbox thing was clever," he mumbled angrily, but you must be just acting."

"Of course," Emily said simply. "I'm an actress. I've been doing theater since… probably before you were born. I was hired to expose you; the police fed me evidence so I could pretend to be a psychic."

"But… why?" Shawn stammered. "That makes no sense. Everyone believes me. Even Lassie believes me."

"It was nothing personal, as far as I know. The department is trying to cut costs."

"Then why did they hire an actress?" Shawn yelled.

"Hiring an actress once," Emily replied calmly," Is much cheaper than hiring a liar over and over. Think about it, what if you got hurt and it came out that you were just a civilian, not a psychic? You're a liability."

Shawn hit his head against the table again. "So you're going to tell them?"

"It's my job."

The sound of Shawn's forehead against meeting the wooden table was a sort of a cross between a 'thwack' and a 'clunk'. Emily left the room. A few minutes later, Juliet entered.

"Here to fire me?" Shawn asked miserably.

"Huh?" Juliet asked distractedly. "You solved the case, didn't you? Well, the one at least, we still don't know who killed the other psychics. Why would you be getting fired? No, I just came to tell you that someone's here to see you."

"What?"

"He's in the lobby."

"He? It's not my dad, is it? Just what I need" Shawn said, walking out of the room. Then, seeing the visitor, he grinned and nearly forgot his current problem. "Gus!" he yelled. The man at the front desk gave him an annoyed look. "I though you weren't going to be home until tomorrow."

"They were able to clear the runways faster than they thought. So what's happened while I've been gone?"

"I blew it," Shawn said soberly.

"What?"

"I told someone," Shawn whispered. "I didn't mean to."

"This is why I can't leave you alone," Gus said. "At least tell me she was hot."

"She's a middle aged woman," Shawn replied. "She tricked me."

"Is she a hot middle aged woman, at least?"

"She's an actress. She pretended she was a psychic."

"How dare she?" Gus said sarcastically.

"And now she knows and she's going to tell them and I'm going to lose my job."

Emily walked out of the chief's office. Shawn glared at her. She winked and walked outside.

Lassiter came out of the chief's office and handed Shawn a folder. "Why are you just standing here? Dr. Love didn't kill the other psychics. You still have a murder to find."

"Me?"

"Yes. Emily has just informed us that you are, in fact, a real psychic. She's an actress by the way. The department's on our tails to make budget cuts. Someone figured that if they could prove you fake, that'd be one way to cut costs." Shawn pretended to look interested, as if he hadn't heard the same thing a few minutes before. He was growing happier by the minute.

"Hang on a minute, Lassie," he said, running outside. He caught up to Emily. "You didn't tell them."

"No," she said smiling.

"Why?"

"Why not?" she replied. Shawn stared after her as she walked away. Then he walked back into the police headquarters smiling. When Lassiter walked away, Shawn turned to Gus and said, "Looks like we're still in business after all!" He flipped quickly through the folder that Lassiter handed him. Then he leaned against the wall, put his hand to his head…

And Gus thought "Here we go again…"


End file.
